


Movie Night

by Proskenion, turnedherbrain



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF
Genre: Fluff, Fun, Hugs, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-07 12:21:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18410546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Proskenion/pseuds/Proskenion, https://archiveofourown.org/users/turnedherbrain/pseuds/turnedherbrain
Summary: You’ve organised a movie night with the boys, thinking you’ll have a relatively quiet evening just eating good food and film-watching. However, you hadn’t expected the many squabbles, the added karaoke, the storytime onesie… or those underpants.





	Movie Night

This night has been planned and discussed for a long time. It hasn't been easy to find a night where every one of you was free, and to be fair previous dates had been cancelled a couple of times, but this time it was finally happening.

The boys are coming to your place around dinner time so you can eat and watch a film together. It has been decided that it will be a 100% plant-based dinner, and that the boys should bring drinks as well as their own food if they want some extra non-vegan snacks. So you’ve spent the whole afternoon making all sorts of vegan pies and cakes, homemade hummus and a fair amount of vegan cookies as well – all this with Queen music playing in the background, which has actually been very entertaining.

Now that everything is cooked and ready – except for some sweet potato fries still in the oven – you are chilling on your sofa with a nice cup of tea, waiting for the boys who shouldn't be very long now.

A knock at the door prevents you from finishing your drink. Discarding your cup on the coffee table, you rush to open the door. ‘Hello, hello!’ Joe exclaims as soon as the door is opened. He comes in, quickly followed by Ben and Gwilym, as well as Ben’s little dog which immediately comes to you and jumps enthusiastically at your feet.

‘I can't believe it,’ you tease, petting the dog, ‘all three of you at the same time, and on time!’

‘That's because of our military-like taxi driver,’ Joe replies with a laugh. He is holding a huge plastic bag, and doesn’t wait for your invitation to make his way into the kitchen with it.

‘That's me,’ Gwil says, slightly mimicking a salute, ‘I'm the lucky one, driving everyone around.’ You smile at this.

‘Where do I put this, Y/N?’ Ben asks, pointing out the stack of beer with his chin.

‘You can put it in the kitchen, you know the way.’ Ben nods and goes towards the kitchen, where Joe’s disappeared a few seconds ago, doing God knows what.

‘Looks like you've forgotten someone, Gwil,’ you tease him. ‘You’re not _that_ much of a good chauffeur, are you?’

‘Oh, you mean Rami?’ Gwil laughs, getting your meaning. ‘He’s coming under his own steam, but he had to have a deep and meaningful with Lucy first.’

‘Is Lucy coming?’ you ask.

‘No, she’s in L.A. at a casting call,’ Ben joins in blithely, from where he’s standing balancing beer cans in the kitchen doorway, ‘which is why he’s on Skype to her 24/7.’

‘Er, Y/N?’ Joe calls from the kitchen. ‘I think your fries are burning, dude!’

Then it all descends into comic chaos. You open the oven to a billow of pungent smoke, and the smell of very burnt sweet potato fries which you had completely forgotten about. Ben valiantly tries to dodge the vapour coming from the oven’s depths, but dislodges a couple of beer cans from his arms, sending them skeetering across the lino floor. One of the cans bursts, spinning wildly in a foamy stream, and everyone jumps out of the way to avoid their immaculate trainers getting splattered. Roger, Ben’s cute but wriggly puppy, runs around in circles barking at nothing, until Ben picks him up and quietens him with a cuddle.

In the midst of all this, Rami knocks gently at your flat’s door, but no-one’s heard him, and he’s reduced to doing his Freddie stadium holler to get everyone’s attention.

‘Glad to see that still works!’ Rami laughs as he wanders in to a scene from Ramsey’s Kitchen Nightmares. His calm demeanour instantly has the desired effect though, as everyone pitches in to clean up, and you open every window in sight to clear the air.

With everyone squished into the kitchen, helping out all they can, you can’t help but reflect how much your life has changed since you met these boys. They just bring so much joy, oh and quite a lot of good-natured squabbling too. Like now.

‘I do not have _‘reindeer hands’_!’ Gwil objects, as he crouches next to Joe cleaning up the beer spill.

‘Yes, you do. Big, flappy reindeer hands.’ Joe repeats with a wink. ‘And you can’t hang a right.’

‘It’s called ‘turning right’ over here, mate. And if you object to my turning skills, or my driving in general, why was I the one to drive us this evening?’

‘Ummmm… because that means you can’t get drunk like the rest of us?’ replies Joe gleefully.

‘Oh,’ says Gwil, looking a bit crestfallen. ‘I thought it was because I’m the responsible one.’

‘Guys, guys…’ inserts Rami, who’s been sitting on the kitchen counter silently observing them. He’s used to being the father-figure and the one to defuse every little fight. ‘Let’s remember whose house we’re in. Y/N’s kindly invited us here to partake of these delicious vegan goodies and watch a movie. Not to observe us fighting like apes.’

‘Oooh, oooh, oooh!’ laughs Ben, stirring the pot by doing a passable imitation of a monkey. Roger looks up at his master, wondering what language he’s speaking. Gwil and Joe clamber up from their respective positions on the floor, looking shamefaced.

‘Sorry, Y/N,’ murmurs Joe.

‘Yes, sorry,’ Gwil chimes in.

You don’t care. All of these pretend fights are because they know each other so well, and growing up with a whole yardful of brothers, you also know this is ‘how boys behave’. They’re still your three musketeers. Except there are more than three of them, plus a dog, so really they’re just your bunch of lovely, talented, funny, huggable boys.

‘Shall we eat?’ suggests Rami, leaping down from the counter-top. Even with his usual pleasant demeanour, you can tell he’s trying hard to mask something, and take him to one side as everyone carries plates and bowls of food into the living room, along with the beers that Ben didn’t drop.

‘Rami, what’s wrong?’

‘Nothing,’ he answers, although it’s almost like he’s inviting you to ask him more.

‘Rami Said Malek,’ you say, crossing your arms over your chest. You look at him expectantly, knowing it won’t be long before his wall comes down. And sure enough, after a couple of seconds he sighs.

‘It’s just – Lucy’s in L.A., you know, and it was quite unexpected, so…’ he finally admits, punctuating his confession with a sad smile.

‘Come here,’ you say, opening your arms to enfold him in a tight embrace. But the sweetness and intimacy of that moment doesn’t last long, as Joe exclaims:

‘Is it hug time? Guys, over here, it’s hug time!’

And before you can do anything Joe joins in and wraps his arms around Rami and you, and in no more than a heartbeat Gwil and Ben join the group hug too, Roger barking and jumping around excitedly. You’re in the warm midst of this hug-pile.

‘Alright, I think we’ll soon all be suffocating,’ Rami finally says, and the hug ends, but you can see his face lighten up and you’re happy.

Roger is still barking though, so Ben takes him in his arms, cooing: ‘Does little Rog want a hug too, eh? Who’s daddy’s good boy? Who’s daddy’s good boy?’ Roger answers by happily licking Ben’s face.

Then you all settle around the coffee table where the food and drink is laid out, and you take the remote. ‘Are we all OK to watch the film while eating?’ As the boys all agree, you turn on the TV and open Netflix. ‘So, there are two rules,’ you say, ignoring Joe and Ben complaining about how rules are no fun. ‘It CAN’T be a film that any one of you is in, and it MUST be a film none of us has seen.’

‘Alright, but this isn’t gonna be easy,’ Gwil comments, putting a handful of crisps in his mouth.

And indeed, the following ten minutes involves you scrolling through Netflix to find a film, while the boys discuss every proposition you make and start squabbling again. The only one who doesn’t say much is Rami, and both of you often glance at each other, equally amused although starting to feel a bit annoyed as well. When Gwil and Ben are on the verge of starting to throw food at each other, you take to the floor:

‘I have an idea. Let’s start again from the beginning and make a list of the films none of us has already seen. Then we’ll all choose up to two films, put those choices in a bag or something and make a draw.’

‘That sounds like a very sensible idea,’ Rami adds.

‘And who will draw?’ Ben asks.

‘I will,’ you say, going to locate some paper and pens. ‘It’s my house, after all.’

A quarter of an hour later, the remains of the vegan feast lie decimated on the coffee table, and everyone has adopted their ‘film-watching’ poses. Gwil, at the very end of the large sofa, is sitting with one long leg extended out, the other pulled up to his chest, nursing a bottle of 0% alcohol beer. (‘Zero percent taste as well,’ he’s reflecting to himself.) Rami’s next to him, already getting merry, sending typo-filled messages of love and luck to Lucy. He decides to rest his head awhile on his friend’s shoulder, which the good-natured Gwil clearly doesn’t mind. Joe’s at the end, leaning over to Ben and berating him for not joining them on the promotional tour of Japan, where apparently the boys had smashed it at karaoke.

Ben’s half-reclined on the smaller sofa, his laidback pose partly to accommodate Roger, who’s decided the couch is his and has taken full occupancy with a wide-mouthed yawn. You’re next to Ben, your legs drawn up under you while your sock-covered feet get lovingly licked by the adorable Rog. You’re busy putting the last of the film choices in a muslin shopping bag so you can make the draw.

Standing up with the bag ready, you ask Ben: ‘Drumroll, please!’

Ben stops trying to shift Roger to make more room, and drums the coffee table with the flats of his palms.

‘It’s…………  ‘Les Miserables’!!’ you announce.

‘Perfect,’ drawls Rami, head inclined on Gwil’s shoulder. ‘No-one’s seen that, have they?’

‘We sure as hell weren’t _in it_ ,’ adds Joe, chuckling.

Rog barks his approval too, and Ben nods mildly. Musicals aren’t really his cup of tea, but he’s heard good stuff about Eddie Redmayne’s performance, and you can always learn something from your acting peers.

Gwil snuffles, and regards his empty bottle of 0% alcohol lager. ‘I vote we get a taxi home. If I’m going to watch this, I need to be a bit drunk.’

‘Vetoed,’ shouts Joe. ‘London cabs are expensive.’

‘You don’t have the majority!’ argues Gwil.

‘C’mon, you two…’ pleads Rami, spreading his arms wide, hands face down: a gesture of peace and calm. ‘I’ll pay for the taxi, OK? Go get your beer, man.’ He pats Gwil’s knee affectionately.

As Gwil heads off to the kitchen, Roger decides he’s going to settle on both your’s and Ben’s laps, extending his small body to its full length in a statement that says _‘both these humans are mine!’_

‘If you need the loo, go now,’ Ben advises you kindly. ‘This little fella will NOT shift for anything.’

As everyone refills their drinks, takes a much-needed toilet break or adapts their positions, the opening credits to ‘Les Miserables’ fill your TV screen and Roger howls in response.

‘Roger’s giving the movie zero stars,’ quips Joe. ‘And he’s not even watched it yet!’ Ben and Gwil giggle, Rami sighs as he looks at his phone screen yet again, and you try to reinsert yourself under the elongated puppy so you can sit down properly.

This joking, shifting and fidgeting sets the tone for the entire movie-watching.

It doesn’t take more than fifteen minutes for Joe to sing along with whoever is on screen, provoking a lot of laughs and friendly reproach from everyone else in the room. Gwil self-consciously opens his third beer, so you decide to reassure him and appease every discussion about taxi or not, by telling everyone they can all stay for a sleepover.

‘I have a great futon and plenty of sleeping bags, don’t worry,’ you say reassuringly.

And as Ben matter-of-factly states that there aren’t many more beers left, you again tell everyone not to worry and go into the kitchen without any more explanation. You can hear Joe tell Ben that he has absolutely no manners whatsoever, and Rami intervening again to calm things down. ‘We are _trying_ to watch a film?’ Gwil adds, the only one with his eyes on the screen.

You come back a couple of minutes later with several glasses and a bottle of wine set on a tray. You only left for a short while, but you find that the empty space you left on your sofa is now occupied by a cute little puppy, as Roger apparently decided that he would be more comfortable here to resume his nap. You shrug, and after distributing glasses of wine to everyone, you go and sit between Joe and Rami, trying to settle yourself as comfortably as possible.

It doesn’t take more than another half an hour and a few glasses of wine for all of you to be singing along and roaring with laughter. You notice that Rami is looking less often at his phone. Beaming with joy and feeling a bit tipsy, you lean against him and he puts his arm around you, while you rest your legs on Joe’s knees. Everything feels good and you couldn’t be happier.

After the film’s finished, Joe insists on rewinding to the point where the cast sing _‘Do you hear the people sing, singing the songs of angry men…’_ while he leads a drunken, military-style march around the living room, the boys’ feet clomping merrily on the wooden floor. After the song’s finished, Joe asks if you’ve got Singstar on your PS4, as he’s in the mood for more singing. So a few minutes later, Rami, Joe, Gwil and Ben are sharing the two mics as they sway and sing ‘Piece of My Heart’ boisterously, while you guard a now-very-awake Roger, the dog yowling an accompaniment.

_‘Didn't I make you feel_   
_Like you were the only man, **yeee-aaah**_   
_Didn't I give you everything that a woman possibly can?’_

is strange to listen to when it’s sung by four grown men at the tops of their voices, hugging each other while happy tears cascade from their eyes. You’re really glad that your downstairs neighbour is currently out of town, because as much as you’re enjoying yourself, it’s now 1am, the boys show no signs of flagging and you’re nervous because there’s a noise restriction in your neighbourhood after midnight.

‘Hey, I have an idea!’ you proclaim over the general din. ‘Let’s play ‘Never Have I Ever’. You all know how to play that one, right?’

They all nod, Ben adding: ‘And anyone we think is lying has to drink.’

You sigh internally, wondering how many bottles of wine you’ve still got left in the kitchen. The game quickly commences, and it soon turns out that Ben has got an excellent poker face. ‘Never have I ever ridden a motorbike,’ he states, with such innocence that everyone believes him. Whereas Joe and Gwil are terrible, giggling with each ‘never have I ever…’ they say and as a result, needing to drink every time it’s their turn.

‘Never have I ever swum naked,’ declares Gwil, then immediately bursts out laughing at the memory of swimming naked.

‘You sooo have, you naughty boy,’ murmurs Rami, happily leaning on his friend again.

‘Drink, drink!’ shouts everyone else. So much for this being a quieter game.

But the king of the game-players is Rami. He’s so good at the game, so poker-faced and secretive, he doesn’t have to drink even once throughout. ‘Dammit, Rami!’ says an admiring Joe, as they guess wrongly yet again.

After all that, you really doubt that the boys are ready for bed, but you decide to ask for help getting the bedding together anyway, as a big hint that it’s getting towards 2am and at some point tonight, you’ll need to sleep.

‘How many people can sleep on that?’ Rami asks as he helps you unrolling the futon mattress on the living-room floor.

‘Four without any problem. Unless one of you wants to sleep on the larger couch?’

‘And how will we decide who’s the lucky one doing that?’ Joe asks, while throwing a pile of pillows on the now unrolled futon.

‘By fighting to the death, as men do,’ Ben suggests, laughing way too loudly for 2am.

Gwil, who has already chosen his sleeping bag and is wearing it as a superhero cape, says that it would probably be more reasonable to discuss it like grown-ups do, but Ben replies he would rather fight and to prove it, takes a pillow and throws it directly at Gwil’s head.

‘Maybe it’s time to calm down a bit, guys,’ Rami intervenes when he sees your worried face. ‘The neighbours probably don’t want to take part in our little party, and we don’t want to be called out for night-time disturbance, do we?’

You thank him softly while the others sheepishly apologise, and a couple of minutes later everything’s ready for bed. Now you just have to decide who sleeps where. But before that…

‘Can we have a bedtime story?’ asks Joe. ‘Little Bennie can’t sleep without it, can you?’ he adds, pinching Ben’s cheek. Ben gently pushes him away, and Joe makes fun of him as he blushes.

‘Actually, it’s a good idea,’ says Gwil.

‘Yes, I definitely think it is,’ you agree, failing to suppress a yawn. ‘But after that, everyone goes to sleep!’

‘Yes mum,’ Gwil and Joe answer at the same time, which provokes a moment of pure laughter none of you can hold back.

‘I’ve got an idea,’ you say, and disappear from the room for a moment to retrieve something from your wardrobe. It’s your treasured panda onesie, which you’ve worn so many times. Carrying it aloft like a furry trophy into the living room, you announce: ‘OK everyone, whoever reads the bedtime story HAS TO put on this panda onesie. Even if it doesn’t fit them.’

You’re not expecting such an enthusiastic response: everyone’s clamouring to wear the fleecy outfit. But eventually, everyone agrees that Rami’s the most in need of cheering up since Lucy’s been away, and he gleefully dons the onesie, pulling up the hood for extra cuteness.

‘ ** _I_** want a onesie!’ Joe pretends to complain.

‘Where’s that one you bought in Japan?’ asks Gwil, who’s quietly glad he didn’t have to bend his tall frame into your bedclothes.

‘It didn’t fit in my suitcase. I had to abandon it,’ replies Joe sadly.

‘I’ll buy you another one, mate,’ says Gwil solicitously, squeezing his friend’s shoulder.

‘And me!’ interjects Ben, looking put out that he missed getting a onesie.

‘We already told you Ben: _‘If you don’t come on tour, you don’t get treats.’_ ’ Joe wags a finger, admonishing him like a serious parent.

‘I’ll buy you one, Benji,’ Gwil promises, leaning behind Joe’s back, and that seems to quell another mild dispute.

After this show of generosity, everyone’s now fully settled for the bedtime story. Rami’s chosen a book you and he both love, a childhood tale called ‘The Empty Pot’. You’ve kept the dog-eared copy you’ve had since you were only five years old. As Rami tells the story, his smooth, hypnotic voice lulls everyone in the room. They sit like children during classroom story-time, all of them forgetting any little disagreements; any unspent energy. Even Roger lies down on his master’s legs, ears flattened, completely still.

When Rami’s finished the story, everyone claps and agrees that he got the tone just right.

‘Great storytelling, man,’ says Joe, yawning.

‘Agreed,’ confirms Gwil, stretching to loosen his limbs.

‘I hadn’t heard that one before,’ adds Ben.

Now it’s really time for bed. Typically for your loveable crew, none of the boys want to be the one sleeping alone on the sofa, so they decide to all sleep together on the futon.

Rami quietly asks you if he can continue wearing your onesie – just for tonight. He looks so cute in the snuggly outfit, you can’t say no. Then everyone else gets undressed for bed. Joe’s the first to strip down to just his t-shirt and pants.

‘What the fuuuucck!’ exclaims Ben, erupting into laughter. Everyone looks at Joe, whose boxer shorts are liberally decorated with tiny green T-Rexs prancing about on bright yellow suns.

‘What?!’ asks Joe to the entire room, spreading his arms wide in a gesture of innocence and confusion, pretending he’s totally unaware that everyone’s laughing at his pants. ‘I like T-Rexs, OK?’

‘Sure, sure,’ replies Ben, still laughing.

‘Hmmm, you’re looking the wrong way everyone,’ warns Joe, pointing subtly with his index finger at Gwil, who’s bent over taking off his jeans. Gwil stands up suddenly, like an extra-tall meerkat on alert.

‘Jesus, man,’ says Joe.

Rami just wolf-whistles admiringly, while you hang around in the background, blushing madly.

‘How many socks did you stuff down there?’ questions Ben.

Gwil looks mystified and snaps at the waist elastic on his jockey briefs. ‘None. Absolutely none. This is 100% home-grown, hand-reared British produce…’

He looks like he’s going to continue, but then Rami clears his throat loudly and motions in your direction, indicating that this might be TMI for present company. You reckon that if you weren’t in the room, the boys would probably still be continuing this conversation about pants until dawn.

Ben has got undressed with far less fanfare, and strips off his plain white t-shirt before depositing it next to Roger on the smaller couch. ‘Here you go, Rog. You can sleep next to daddy’s t-shirt. There’s not enough room for you in the grown-up bed.’

No-one comments about Ben’s pants or what’s in them; maybe because they’re all in silent awe: he’s got the physique of someone who’s been in intensive training at the boxing gym and is ready for their championship fight.

With much moaning, groaning and exclamations of ‘Move over, man!’ the foursome get into their sleeping bags. Finally, finally, they’re in bed, you think; like a bunch of boisterous children who are tired out at the end of the day. Gwil, Joe, Ben and Rami, lying ramrod straight like prone soldiers to accommodate each other. Roger stays on the couch, observing the humans from a safe distance.

‘G’night!’ you call to them, as you exit to your bedroom, tired but happy.

‘‘Night!’ they chorus in return.

Then all is peaceful and still. The lights are dimmed, the night is dusky and dark. Until…

‘Oooof, watch it!’

‘Seriously man, you’re too big!’

‘I’m not big. I’m _tall_.’

‘Was that your elbow?!’

‘No, it was my extra-large…’

‘…coffee machine?’

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake!’

‘Guys, c’mon now…’

‘Woooof!’

You just hope they get some sleep before dawn.

**Author's Note:**

> • The boys sing [‘Piece of My Heart’](https://youtu.be/j0f5ZG9LG6k) Janis Joplin version  
> • Rami reads [‘The Empty Pot’](https://youtu.be/a9K-sAKdk2Y) as a bedtime story


End file.
